Family Matters
by sasha1600
Summary: The conclusion to the ‘Tony’s Big Lie’ storyline. Warning: spanking of adult. Don’t like? Don’t read!
1. Chapter 1

**Family Matters**

**Summary**: The conclusion to the 'Tony's Big Lie' storyline. **Warning**: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.

* * *

A/N: This is part of my discipline series and builds on a larger plot arc. This is set shortly after Family. Note that Caught has been re-dated so it is now set at the end of Season 4 rather than at some amorphous future date... so this is after the events in that story.

Thanks to Alli1, who suggested a key plot detail (I can't tell you which one without spoiling the story!) and to draggon-flye, for much-needed feedback.

**

* * *

**

**Warning: this story contains the spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.**

**

* * *

**

Tony sat in his car, watching as the light slowly faded around him. If he was going to do this, it would have to be soon, before it got too dark to see what he was doing.

This was the third time in as many days that he had driven around after work instead of heading straight home, eventually stopping at the edge of a park or greenspace and sitting, staring into the treed enclave, trying to work up the nerve to take the next step.

When he'd burnt that card from Jeanne, he'd made a decision to stay with his life as he knew it – his job, his team, his _family_ – rather than to leave it all behind and try to rebuild a relationship with the only woman he'd ever loved, and who had loved someone he was only pretending to be. It had been an agonising decision, and one he still regretted during odd moments when something reminded him of her. But, he had realised that any relationship that began... or began again... with a demand for that kind of sacrifice would forever be strained by it. And, looking at his teammates as he had huddled by the warmth of the fire, he'd known that the people whose absence he would feel the most were right there in the room with him.

It had been a few days later when he'd realised that choosing his 'family' meant accepting the responsibilities of family. He needed a clean slate, to be able to look Gibbs in the eye and promise him that there were no more secrets, no more lies.

And there was one big, whopping lie that he needed to admit to, before that could happen.

It was nearly three years since he'd gone to Gibbs and asked him not to use a switch to whip him with again, carefully alluding to some unspoken childhood experience that had left him traumatised by the very idea of such a punishment. He hadn't actually _lied_, not in so many words. But he'd crafted his comments so that Gibbs's conclusion from them was inevitable. And he had known that his ruse would be successful precisely because Gibbs cared so much about him, and was so concerned about doing what was best for him.

He had buried the guilt that he had felt about that devastating betrayal of his mentor's trust, forcing it to the back of his mind whenever it escaped into his conscious thought. But now, it had joined his distress about keeping the true nature of his 'relationship' with Jeanne from Gibbs, and the revelation of the one made the continued deception about the other a greater burden on his conscience.

He was terrified of how Gibbs would react. And it wasn't just that he was afraid of the whipping he was certain to get, although that was definitely a big part of the reason why he hadn't yet made it out of his car. He wasn't entirely sure that his boss would be able to forgive him for what he had done, despite everything he'd ever told McGee about Gibbs seeing the team as his family. This was _big_, perhaps too big ever to get past. That was the main reason why he'd guarded this secret so carefully for so long – he couldn't stand the thought of losing the trust, the respect, the affection, of this man who had become more of a father to him than his own father ever had been.

He'd toyed with the idea that, if Gibbs rejected him, as he half expected he might, he could still go after Jeanne... that the risk he was taking was less now than it would be later, since he still had another option. But he knew that wasn't really true. He would be devastated by being rejected by Gibbs. It had taken him a lifetime to recover from his father's rejection, and he'd only really started to heal emotionally when he'd found the fatherly support of a gruff ex-Marine who, for whatever reason, had taken him under his wing. He was taking the biggest risk of his life, admitting his lie, and no gloss he could put on the situation could change that.

But, he knew now, it was a risk he was going to have to take, since continuing to live with this lie between them was no longer an option.

Still, even though he'd convinced himself that he was going to have to go to Gibbs and confess, he hadn't quite managed to work up the nerve to actually do it.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of the car and took a determined step towards the tree he'd been staring at for the better part of an hour. Tonight, he was going to actually do this.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs looked up from his boat at the sound of Tony's footsteps on the basement stairs. He'd been expecting Tony to turn up, ever since Jenny's secret op had been blown to hell, and relieved when he finally heard the younger man come in upstairs... and then both surprised and curious about why it had taken him so long to make his way into the basement.

His surprise turned to outright shock at the sight of his senior field agent coming towards him carrying a switch.

'Tony? What the hell...?'

'I lied, Boss. The only problem I have with you using one of these on me, is that it freakin' hurts. There's no childhood trauma that it reminds me of... there never was. I made you think there was, because I knew you'd never do anything you thought reminded me of my father. But, you're the only one who has ever punished me that way. I'll take anything you want to do to me... and I'll understand if you don't want me on your team anymore...'

Tony finally trailed off, not quite finishing the carefully rehearsed confession, too unsure of himself to ask Gibbs to forgive him.

Gibbs was silent for another, long, moment. He was simply stunned by Tony's words. He accepted the switch he was presented with, more from reflex than from a conscious decision to use it to punish the man from whose hands he received it.

Then the initial shock of Tony's confession wore off, and was replaced with a deep sense of betrayal, mixed with more anger than he'd ever felt about an agent's actions.

'Upstairs.'

He pointed the way with the switch. Tony swallowed hard, and didn't move.

'NOW!'

The younger man retreated up the stairs, clearly surprised not to be ordered over to the workbench, where he'd been punished in the past.

Gibbs followed close behind him, directing him down the hall and into the little-used living-room with silent gestures. Finally, he pointed at the couch and commanded simply, 'Sit.'

He tossed the switch onto the cushion next to Tony, and turned to leave.

'Boss?'

Tony was on his feet again when Gibbs turned back to face him.

'Tony, you've had three years to think about what you did, but I haven't even had three minutes. I need some time to digest this, before I can deal with you. So plant your ass on that couch and don't move!'

Tony slowly lowered himself onto the seat, watching helplessly as his boss turned angrily and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony listened with growing dismay as he heard Gibbs climb the stairs to the house's bedrooms, return, and continue on to the basement.

It had taken him so long to work up the courage to face the punishment he knew was coming... now, he just wanted to get it over with. He hadn't factored in the possibility that Gibbs might make him wait, and with each passing minute the temptation to flee grew stronger.

And, with each passing minute, the conviction that his boss was too angry to forgive him grew stronger as well. He'd still been clinging to a hope that Gibbs's claims that he wouldn't give up on him might hold some basis in truth, but now he became increasingly certain that he was about to dismiss him from his life with all the finality of his father's disowning of him. Clearly, there were limits even to Gibbs's capacity for forgiveness, and he'd just found them.

Hell, Gibbs apparently couldn't even stand the sight of him right now.

The noises coming from the basement grew louder, and settled into a steady rhythm. It became clear that Gibbs was settling in to work on his boat. Tony wondered if that meant that he could leave, that Gibbs had decided to simply ignore him and hope he'd have enough sense to take off, pack up his desk, and disappear.

But Gibbs had told him to sit down and wait. And, even now, he couldn't bring himself to disobey a direct order.

He told himself that it was merely self-preservation. That there was some slim chance he might simply be transferred to some other team, or assigned to a different office, rather than fired outright. And Gibbs's conversation with the Director in the morning would be that much less favourable if he defied him tonight.

But, he knew, it was much more than that. Gibbs was his mentor, the father he'd never had. He'd follow this man to hell and back, and even though he was sure it was his last night on his team, he'd be damned if his last action as one of Gibbs's agents was going to be to disobey the last order his boss would ever give him.

Tony shifted nervously, trying to get comfortable. He slumped against the back of the overstuffed couch, wondering how much longer he'd have to wait.

And if Gibbs was planning to _whip_ him _before_ he fired him.


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs pounded another wooden peg into a carefully drilled hole. It was loud, physical work and it was perfect as a way of burning off anger. He needed to calm down before he dealt with Tony, or he might just kill him.

He'd considered going for a run instead. It was how he usually dealt with the rare occasions when was just too angry to punish someone. He'd even made it to his bedroom and pulled a pair of sweats from a drawer, before he decided that leaving Tony alone to stew might not be the best idea. He might not be there when he got back. Now, at least, there was no way Tony could leave the living-room directly overhead without Gibbs hearing the creaking floorboards signalling his departure.

He was still furious with the younger man.

It wasn't just that Tony had lied to him, although that was definitely one of the worst offences any of his agents could commit. The ability to trust his people absolutely, without doubt and without hesitation, was essential for the job they did. And Tony, by his own admission, had lied to him and, through his continued silence about the matter, had kept on lying to him, for years.

And it wasn't even that Tony had lied to avoid being punished. That had always resulted in more severe punishment in his house growing up, and he'd carried that attitude into his less-than-conventional approach to disciplining his team. And Tony's lie to avoid more painful potential consequences had, to some extent, applied to every punishment he'd received in the last several years; more particularly, there were a couple of incidents that stood out in his mind as occasions when he might well have used a switch, but for Tony's deception.

What he was really pissed about, though, was that Tony had manipulated him. He had used the fact that Gibbs was scrupulously trying to avoid calling up old ghosts for the troubled younger man, to further his own selfish agenda. Gibbs had taken him under his wing, had come to see him as the son he'd never had, and had been repaid with a deception of this magnitude.

But, as he vented his frustration on another peg, he realised that he needed to react to the man upstairs now, not the man he once had been. Tony had grown a lot in the last three years, had become the man who had just come to him to admit an old offence, and who had brought a switch with him in clear expectation of severe punishment, when it would have been much easier for him to have simply continued his silence. That in itself showed as much, if not more, about the younger man's character, than the lie he'd told three years ago.

And, he realised, he was reacting himself as if the offence had been committed yesterday, instead of three years ago. It wasn't fair to Tony to treat the incident as a recent occurrence, although it _felt_ fresh to Gibbs, who had only just learnt of it. If he had lied to him like that now, in the context of their current relationship, it would indeed be the huge betrayal of his trust that he felt it to be. But the Tony who actually _had_ lied to him had been less firmly entrenched as a surrogate son. At the time, Gibbs had only recently admitted to himself that the younger man wasn't so much a professional protégé as he was _family_, in every sense that mattered, and Tony hadn't seemed to fully realise that fact, much less actually believe it. And Gibbs had, only a few weeks before the lie, forced a reluctant Tony to talk about his responses to his discipline, in light of his strained relationship with his father. Asking him not to use a switch on him was like a child testing the boundaries, and wondering if Gibbs really meant what he'd said, or if he'd let him down the way his father always had. This lie had to be interpreted in that context, and it was that behaviour that he needed to respond to.

Gibbs smiled wryly to himself, remembering his own boundary-testing as a boy.

He'd been about twelve when he'd decided, unilaterally, that he was too old to be limited by the 'childish' restrictions that had governed his behaviour up to then. A series of petty defiances had resulted in a string of increasingly severe reprimands, until finally his father had come to his room one evening and shown him, in no uncertain terms, that he was still his son. It wasn't the worst spanking of his childhood, but it was one he'd always remember.

Suddenly sure that he knew how he had to deal with Tony, he set the mallet in its place on the workbench and headed upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony looked up at the sound of Gibbs's footsteps on the basement stairs, turning his head towards the living-room door in nervous anticipation. His breath caught in his throat as his boss entered the room. His earlier impatience evaporated. How could he ever have wanted to get this over with? And how could he have been so foolish that he thought this was a good idea in the first place?

Gibbs crossed the room in a couple of strides and sat down on a low ottoman directly in front of Tony, their knees almost touching as he leaned forward.

'Would you care to tell me _why_ you lied to me about something like this, Tony?'

'Not really.'

Silence.

'I don't know, Boss! I can't even say it seemed like a good idea at the time... it didn't... not really. I just figured... I... could get away with it, you know? And a switch really hurts, so...'

The quiet words trailed off.

'And then you continued to lie to me for three years.'

'Because I knew you'd take a switch to me for it, and I was scared.'

'The real reason, Tony.'

Tony looked at him in surprise, and was even more stunned to see the knowing expression on Gibbs's face. The silence stretched out awkwardly before he finally found the words to respond.

'Because I knew you'd never be able to trust me again after that, Boss. I didn't want to be transferred to another team, or packed off to the next police force. And I couldn't stand to lose your respect. I owe you everything, and I didn't want you to know that I'd done something so stupid.'

'So what's changed?'

'Boss?'

'Why did you come to me about this tonight? You could have just kept quiet, and I never would have known what you'd done.'

'Because I can't live a lie, Boss. Not anymore. After Jeanne...' Tony trailed off, not sure how to put into words everything he was feeling. He wasn't even sure himself how much of this was his guilt about lying _to _Jeanne, and how much of it was his guilt about lying to Gibbs _about _her. After a long few seconds, he gave up trying to explain, and simply moved on. 'I need to make things right with you, Boss. For everything. And if I can't do that, if you can't forgive me... then I'll just have to accept that. But I can't keep lying to you.'

Gibbs didn't say anything right away, and Tony shifted nervously in his seat, waiting breathlessly to hear his fate.

'You're right, Tony.'

His heart stopped.

'This is big.'

Tony somehow forced himself to meet his boss's eyes. If he was going to be fired, told that Gibbs didn't want him in his life anymore, he'd take it like a man, at least.

There was something inscrutable in Gibbs's eyes. Disappointment... anger... and something else. It reminded Tony of that self-satisfied expression his boss sometimes wore, after one of his gut instincts had been confirmed. But it couldn't be that.

'You lied to me. You made me think I had punished you in a way you found traumatic. You avoided further punishment by playing on my concern for your well-being. You used my affection for you, to manipulate me.'

Gibbs paused, and Tony looked down at his knees, suddenly unable to face the man he had betrayed.

'But I don't think it was malice on your part, Tony. Or even just opportunism. I think you were testing me, whether you realised it at the time or not. You wanted to know if I really cared enough about you to make a promise like that, and to keep it. I'm disappointed that you thought you had to betray my trust, to find out whether you could really trust me. And I'm disappointed that you thought you had to keep lying to me.'

His father had called him 'a disappointment' more often than he could remember. The words had always carried the sting of rejection, had always meant that he wasn't good enough, wasn't enough like his father, to be worthy of his love or attention. As a small child, he'd cried, promised to try harder, to be what his father wanted him to be; later, he'd pretended that he didn't care that his father couldn't love him for who he was.

Hearing those words from his boss made his blood run cold. It wasn't often that anything about how Gibbs treated him reminded him of his father. And when it did, it was always, like now, the contrast that affected him most. Because even though the words were virtually identical, the meaning behind them couldn't be more different. He wasn't sure how, but Tony knew without a doubt that Gibbs didn't mean the words as code for 'you aren't the son I wanted'. Gibbs meant just what he'd said; Tony had let him down.

Tony's stomach twisted. For the first time, he really understood why 'I'm disappointed in you, son' was considered such a gut-wrenching line in those old movies. And the stark reminder that the boss he had deceived for so long was more of a father to him than anything he'd known as a child made him feel even worse about what he'd done.

And he recognised himself in the suggestion that some part of him had been wondering if Gibbs had really meant it when he'd asked Tony if he was uncomfortable with how he disciplined him, and when he'd agreed not to use a switch on him again. Gibbs's ability to see right through him, to understand him even when he didn't understand himself, made him feel like his heart had been ripped out.

'C'mon, son. Let's take care of this, and put it behind us.'

Tony tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He nodded awkwardly, too overwhelmed by everything Gibbs had said to fully appreciate the significance of his last statement, and barely processing the fact that the time had come for him to take his punishment.

Slowly, he got to his feet.

'Pants down.'

He wasn't surprised; he remembered Gibbs's order the last time he'd used a switch to punish him. His hands moved hesitantly to his buckle, and he fumbled to undo his belt and lower his trousers to his knees. He paused and looked questioningly at Gibbs, who still hadn't moved from his seat on the ottoman. When he didn't say anything, Tony decided to leave his boxers on, at least until he was told otherwise.

Hobbled by the lowered trousers, he began to shuffle awkwardly towards the end of the couch, planning to position himself over the over-stuffed arm. Gibbs stopped him with a gentle command. Tony looked around, confused, not seeing anywhere else his boss could put him, and realising with a surge of panic that he would never be able to stay in position if Gibbs wanted him in an old-fashioned grab-your-ankles stance... not with a switch.

'Come here, Tony.'

Gibbs still hadn't moved.

At first Tony didn't realise what Gibbs had in mind. Then, with a shock of recognition, he understood. He stood frozen in place, unable to comply, unable to imagine complying. Gibbs obviously saw the understanding behind his horrified expression, and didn't bother to explain where he wanted him.

'This is personal, Tony. You lying to me had nothing to do with work. You betrayed _my_ trust. I'm not punishing you as your boss, and I want you to remember that.

Tony opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, as unable to reply as he was to move.

'This is going to happen, Tony. How long we wait, is up to you.'

He closed his eyes, his heart racing and his breathing ragged. He had no idea how much time passed before he peered tentatively through a half-closed eyelid, finding Gibbs unmoved, watching him calmly.

'It's ok, Tony. Whenever you're ready.'

Ready? How would he ever be _ready_ for this?

Somehow, he forced one foot in front of the other and managed to get to Gibbs's side before hesitating again. Another long moment passed before he lowered himself clumsily, manoeuvring himself into position. He felt Gibbs's arm across his waist, tugging him slightly in one direction before closing around him in what felt like half-restraint, half-embrace.

Tony blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, refusing to cry _before_ Gibbs even picked up the switch.

A moment later he felt a burst of pain spread across his thinly-clad backside. But, instead of an intense, biting sting, it was a duller, more diffuse pain that settled quickly into an unpleasant tingling warmth. It definitely _hurt_... but it wasn't nearly as bad as what he'd expected. He realised with a rush of surprise and gratitude that Gibbs wasn't using the switch.

After only a few strokes, the pain had built to a steady, throbbing burn. As he choked back a whimper, he suddenly wondered what Gibbs was using. There hadn't been anything obvious lying around the room while he'd been waiting, other than the switch, and he hadn't noticed anything in his boss's hand when he came in.

An uneasiness started to grow within him. He told himself that this couldn't actually be happening. Finally, needing reassurance that his concern was unfounded, he twisted as far as he could and looked frantically over his shoulder.

He saw, to his horror, that Gibbs's hand was empty. Tony sobbed and struggled to escape.

But Gibbs held him firmly in place, and the spanking continued inexorably.

Tony's mind struggled to process the fact that he was actually lying across his boss's lap, and being spanked with his hand. Gibbs had punished him before, more often than he could count, but never remotely like this. He had been prepared for the physical pain of being whipped with a switch, but the emotional experience of an over-the-knee spanking was completely unexpected.

This was so much more personal, intimate, even. And the closeness, the feel of his boss's body against his own, his arm at once holding him in place and providing the comfortable warmth of human contact, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. His father had never used his hand to spank him; there was always some impersonal implement that prevented any actual contact. And he'd certainly never put him over his lap like this; that would have meant touching him far too much. His initial dismay when he'd realised that Gibbs wanted him in this position had been because he'd thought it would be embarrassing. He discovered instead that the humiliation of being punished like a naughty child was outweighed by the emotional impact of the fact that Gibbs was treating him exactly as if he really were his son.

The pain continued to build. Physically, it wasn't nearly as bad as what he was used to getting, but it still _hurt_. A lot. He didn't understand how a bare hand could hurt so much, and the realisation that his boss's hand must also be stinging made him sob even harder, the idea that Gibbs had chosen a means of punishing him that meant enduring pain himself adding to the devastating psychological effect of the punishment.

He dimly realised that Gibbs hadn't stopped after the dozen strokes that usually marked the upper limit of his spankings. He had no idea how many he'd already endured, or how much more he would have to take. He already felt more vulnerable than usual; even though he knew that bending over the couch was, physically, as much of a submission, being over Gibbs's knee like this felt like a more profound acceptance of his mentor's discipline. Now, without even the limited comfort of counting down the remaining strokes, the last vestiges of any sense of control evaporated. He was utterly helpless.

He cried openly, losing all sense of time, of anything outside of this experience. He was aware of nothing except the pain, and his connection to the man inflicting it.

Finally, it stopped.

Tony continued to sob freely, making no effort to move. His ass was blazing, and he felt emotionally drained. Gibbs held him in place over his lap, rubbing his back soothingly. When his hitched breathing became calmer, he gently tipped him back into a kneeling position.

Tony wiped at his eyes and tried to shuffle backwards. Gibbs's hands were still resting lightly on his shoulders, but he expected the contact to be severed easily. Instead, to his astonishment, Gibbs pulled him into a firm hug. Tony struggled against the embrace, too surprised and embarrassed to accept the comfort offered him. But Gibbs merely tightened his hold on the struggling younger man, cradling his head against his chest and pulling him close.

'It's ok, Tony. I've got you.'

Tony continued to resist for a moment longer, but Gibbs wouldn't let go. He'd been so sure that Gibbs was going to wash his hands of him, and instead he'd given him a deeply personal spanking and now was _hugging_ him. He felt overwhelmed by the unmistakeable message that Gibbs wasn't abandoning him. Finally he relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy the unexpected comfort of his mentor's arms around him.

He wasn't sure how long it was before Gibbs finally spoke.

'I'm proud of you, Tony.'

He pulled away enough to look up at Gibbs in shock. He had been hoping to be told that he was forgiven, or that he might regain his boss's trust. But to hear that he was _proud_ of him, after what he'd done? He didn't understand.

'Boss?'

'You could have got away with this one. If you continued with the pretence, there's really not much chance I'd ever know it was a lie. And yet you chose to come to me. That's big, too, Tony. And this is the first time you've _asked_ me to punish you. That says a lot about the man you _are_, and that matters more now than anything you did three years ago.'

Tony didn't reply, not trusting his voice as he looked up at Gibbs with watery eyes. Gibbs ruffled his hair and patted his shoulder before getting to his feet and extending a hand to Tony. Tony stood up shakily, his knees stiff from kneeling so long, and pulled his trousers up over his aching butt with a wince.

'Go on upstairs, Tony. The spare room is made up.'

'I should just go…'

'Tony, it's late, you've been through a lot, and you're in no shape to drive.'

'I'm fine, Gibbs. I'll see you tomor…'

'Upstairs! NOW!'

Tony knew better than to challenge that tone of voice, so he headed for the stairs. He paused on the landing, and turned to look down at the man who was watching him from the hallway.

'G'night, Boss.'

'Good night, son.'


End file.
